Happy Ending
by TinyCitrusLegs
Summary: Might be based on true events. Russia comforts Canada after he has been ignored, yet again, at a meeting with The Alies. You expect this to be like one of those crappy/sappy fanfictions, and so does Canada, but life doesn't work out like that.


Happy Ending

No one really notices you, no one really seems to care, no one really seems to understand. These thoughts are always going through your head, and you wish they would stop, but there's nothing to tear them away.

You think about these thoughts as you sit at the conference table, listening absentmindedly to all the conversations going on around you. Kumajiro sits on your lap, silent as he eats a piece of chocolate he begged from you. That's all he ever does, really, ask you for things and forget your name. You're used to it.

Next to you, France is arguing with Britain, and you shrug their fight off as it is only sexual tension rising. On the other side of you, your brother is yelling about how heroic he is and how the following idea he has is 'the shit', and you are ignoring him as well. China, across from you, is complaining about how all Western nations are the same and that he should really take all the land for himself. Then, Russia, sitting next to China, is merely smiling cutely while observing the situation around him.

In all actuality, you don't know what to think of him. He is a rather strange character, but you haven't gotten to know him all that much to make any remarks on him. You look down at your lap and remain silent. After all, no one has ever questioned you for your opinion on anything, making any remark at this moment would change nothing. Besides that, everything turns out better if you keep your mouth shut.

The meeting ends like normal: nothing getting accomplished and people as tense as always. You're used to this kind of ending and don't complain about it, that would just push your brother's buttons.

As you start to leave the conference building, a hand is set on your shoulder, and you turn around to see a pair of bright violet eyes.

"Allo, Canada..." The big, burly man greets you, and you are shocked to notice that he remembers your name. His smile is dangerously innocent, and you can feel a shiver run up your spine as you can almost see his aura creeping around him. "You seem upset, da?"

You are nearly trembling in your shoes, but only because he is so tall and intimidating. Just look at him... he's... kind of scary. "Eh... no, I'm not upset, not at all," you try to rebut your feelings, even forcing a small smile and chuckling awkwardly, but it doesn't work all that well.

Russia frowns in a slight pout and tilts his head in the most adorable manner possible. "Oh? You look so sad though... especially during the meeting." You thought you had kept your composure neutral, but you suppose that you had been wrong about that. You stare at him to continue, and he does, "I've been watching you for a while Canada, you always seem really sad at those meetings. No one seems to listen to you when you speak, da?" He's expecting an answer, but you never really give him one. It's too hard to answer that question with the truth... it's aching, knowing that no one wants to listen to you...

The cold nation's frown becomes bigger, but only for a moment before he pulls a rather big smile. "It's okay, Canada, I understand how you feel." You doubt his words, after all, he is big and intimidating enough for anyone to give him worthy respect and attention. A hand on your shoulder pulls your attention back to him, and he is incredibly close, too close. "Maybe... we could help each other?"

And that's how it all started.

You imagine this whole situation is like a really bad fanfiction. It's all too good to be true. First character gets all sad and feel-struck, second character comes in and helps first character out, 'I love yous' are exchanged, both ride out on a white stallion into the sunset, happy ending for all.

You like to think that it would all turn out with a sappy ending, but you don't know if it really will.

It all kind of started out that way. You were feeling sad and dejected, then Russia waltzed in like your knight in shining armor and whisked you off to his house where you kissed and he told you how much he's loved you and for the longest time at that. It's all really confusing and out of the blue, so you can't help but say something corny like, 'I have loved you for the longest time too...'

That might have been your downfall.

America is the first one to tell you of your faults.

"Dude, do you know how dangerous Russia is?! He is the sickest fucking Commie I know, and that ain't even an understatement, yo!" He's yelling at you, arguing with you, and you don't know what to say. "You are just an object to him, you know! He'll hurt you, bro, and I don't want to see that!"

You really, desperately want to yell at your brother. He doesn't know what Russia is like. Russia actually listens to you, tells you he loves you, says sweet little things to you, and he isn't dangerous, he hasn't hurt you at all. America is wrong, and you know it, you just know he is wrong.

You know... he is wrong.

You wish it were a sappy fanfiction, now of all times. You wish that sparks would fly when he kisses you. You wish that his hands would slide down your frame slowly and bring shivers of anticipation up your spine. You wish his breath would fan across your ear and arise goosebumps as he says 'I love you'. You wish his kisses would linger and warm you. You wish all of these things, but wishes don't come true.

He presses you down into the bed, giving you sparse kisses before forcing your shirt off and unclipping your trousers. You want to tell him to slow down, but the words are caught in your throat. For a moment, you realize his touch is gone, and you grow a bit relieved until you open your eyes and merely see him stripping himself of his clothing. It's a frightening thought, an extremely frightening thought... was this really happening, was IT going to actually happen...?

When he is fully naked, he is on top of you once again, going on to try and remove your boxers, and that's when you squirm with fright. He notices somewhat, giving you a concerned expression, before he coos, "Don't worry, Canada... I'll be gentle..." Yet he doesn't stop or even pause before ridding you of your last piece of clothing.

You can feel how hard your heart is ramping up in your chest. This isn't how you thought your first time would be, but can you really complain? This guy has been there to help you, told you how much he's loved you, told you how important and irreplaceable you are... really... you have no right to complain, do you?

So, you stay silent as he presses his way inside you. You wince harshly as pain overrides every other sense you have. You don't feel warmth, you don't feel the love, all you feel is aching and everywhere. It spreads on and continues as he thrusts into you, his hands on your hips tightening to a painful extent, and telling you how it feels so good to be inside you. Still biting your lip, you try to follow his lead, trying to please him as much as your virgin body can.

The pain never goes away and the pleasure never comes. He stills and groans with pleasure as he climaxes and then he is off of you, leaving you trembling and hurting. His arms wrap around you and he cuddles you so sweetly, murmuring a quiet 'I love you' in your ear as though he might mean it.  
~~~

You want to tell him no when he starts kissing down your throat again. You want to tell him you're not in the mood or that you are still in a great amount of pain from the last time he has violated you. You want to say these things but, yet again, your throat is tight... and, after all... he kind of deserves your cooperation after being so kind to you.

So, you let him strip you of your clothing and shove your hips down on his hard erection. It hurts just the same as it did the first time, bringing coiling hot pain up into your core and making tears beckon at the corners of your eyes. He doesn't see the tears, however, and continues violating you.

You are nearly silent just like last time, and when he's done, you are lying limp on the mattress with tears slightly dribbling down your cheeks. He doesn't see the tears, he doesn't see your trembling form in pain, and he doesn't ask if you liked it...

Yet, even if he did ask, you'd probably say 'yes'.

If this were a sappy fanfiction, he'd figure it all out and tell you how sorry he was. He'd smile so sweetly and ask what you wanted, ask if you were liking it and try to please you all he could. But this isn't a sappy fanfiction.

This is life.

And, instead, he yells at you and screams at you, demanding that you tell him what's wrong when he's caught you crying all alone. He asks you why you tell him nothing of how you are feeling, he says you are a liar, that you don't really love him, even though you do. After all... you let him take all of your body, just because you love him...

Then he leaves.

He's gone.

America was right, and you were left a fool.

And you're here, wishing, wondering, if there will ever be a happy ending.


End file.
